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by heros_wings



Category: GOT7
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, M/M, gross fluff, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 22:03:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8074324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heros_wings/pseuds/heros_wings
Summary: Jinyoung returns to the dorm after a long night of filming to see Mark sleeping in his room with Coco.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've been dying to write this gross piece of fluff since Jinyoung first mentioned finding Mark sleeping in his bed. It's cheesy and romantic :x

Jinyoung wasn’t sure if it was considered early morning or the middle of the night if he never went to sleep in the first place. At 3am, he wasn’t even sure it mattered. It didn't make him any less tired, his muscles less sore, or his eyes less itchy from the long days and late nights.

He crept through the dark room, careful not to wake Bambam and Yugyeom. Focused on calculating just how many hours of sleep he could squeeze in if he simply collapsed into bed without changing, he didn't register the dim orange glow through the glass panes of his door until he was close enough to slide it open. 

The sight that greeted him made him still: Mark, curled so deeply under his blankets that all Jinyoung could see were tufts of light brown hair and eyelashes fanned across his cheekbones.

Something warm and pleasant dropped into his stomach, warming him from the inside and easing the tension from his tired muscles. His eyes trailed across what little of Mark he could see, before resting on where Coco lay curled at his stomach in a tight ball. She lifted her head and wagged her tail when she heard Jinyoung enter.

More than one shouting match had ensued whenever Jinyoung’s insistence that Coco be kept out of his room was largely ignored or forgotten. But at that moment, due to either exhaustion or having simply given up, he smiled down at her with an affection he knew would be lost next time Youngjae told him another pair of shoes had been ruined.

He snagged his favorite pair of sweats and a long-sleeved shirt, and changed in the bathroom. When he emerged, Coco was still watching him, her watery black eyes peering over Mark’s side.

After shutting off the light, he sunk to the floor, and slid under the covers as slowly and carefully as he could.

Mark stirred. Jinyoung froze. Guilt for having woken him warred with the quiet thrill of seeing Mark peer sleepily over his shoulder in the dark before turning over to face him completely.

With a sleepy smile, he mumbled, “You're back.”

“You're in my bed,” Jinyoung replied, trying and failing to sound annoyed as he settled next to him. It was too warm. Too comfortable, too close to Mark, to even feign irritation.

Mark’s sleepy smile widened as he shuffled closer. Somewhere at the end of the bed, Jinyoung felt Coco finding a more comfortable spot now that Mark had moved.

“How was filming?” he replied, voice still thick with sleep, as if he was still half-dreaming.

Jinyoung watched as his eyes fluttered slowly open before dropping closed again, sleep threatening to pull him under as he fought to stay awake for a moment longer.

“Cold,” he muttered back.

Under the covers, with Mark close enough to touch, Jinyoung wondered if he'd ever be warm again if he moved away. The heat wrapped around him. Brought with it something familiar and safe. The worries, the exhaustion, the uncertainties, disappeared until all that was left was him and Mark.

Mark’s eyes closed again as he mumbled something incoherent. The thing Jinyoung kept tightly guarded, swelled inside him, threatening to burst. This was it, he thought...

This was all he needed. This simple thing. The comfort that came with being so close to someone. The thrill of knowing that someone was Mark. It was everything they had between them and never bothered to put a name to.

“Jinyoung…” Mark shifted so close that Jinyoung could feel his breath on his neck.

He replied with a quiet, carefully neutral hum.

A quiet whisper breathed against his skin.

“Welcome home.”


End file.
